The Parable of the Consort

One day while teaching, Josh was asked, ”Teacher, politicians have gerrymandered themselves into permanent reelection, the governor of Michigan has given himself the power to dissolve local governments without the consent of the governed--twice--and the Supreme Court appears prepared to gut the Voting Rights Act: what’s happening to the idea of America as a democracy?”

Josh spoke thus:

There was a legislator and magistrate whose consort was legal.  

“He’s grandfathered in,” the legislator and magistrate told anyone who would listen.  It was the legislator and magistrate’s favorite quip.

The legislator and magistrate had made consorts illegal because the legislator and magistrate thought them wicked.  The legislator and magistrate was optimistic that somewhere in the legislator and magistrate’s holy book there was a moratorium on consorts.

The legislator and magistrate had made consorts illegal because the legislator and magistrate believed in the sanctity of the marriage bond.  Still hoping to marry some day, the legislator and magistrate was confident that life-long monogamy was the foundation of the rule of law.  The legislator and magistrate maintained that consorts were the greatest threat to monogamy.

The legislator and magistrate had made consorts illegal because the legislator and magistrate believed in the purity of the nuclear family.  A ward of the state from birth, the legislator and magistrate knew better than most the indelible moral foundation provided by the nuclear family.  The legislator and magistrate particularly distrusted orphans.

The legislator and magistrate had the local bordello torn down, its practitioners whipped, its customers sanctioned, its neighborhood condemned.

“Silence is consent,” the legislator and magistrate said in condemning the neighborhood, “You allowed your neighbor to practice wickedness without protest.  You are culpable.”

“Silence is consent,” the legislator and magistrate said in conclusion when no one protested the judgment.  None could protest.  The legislator and magistrate had placed a moratorium on dissent.

“He’s grandfathered in,” the legislator and magistrate made a point of saying into the silence that dared not dissent.

One day the consort of the legislator and magistrate left the company of the legislator and magistrate.  The consort of the legislator and magistrate left town.

“You can not leave me,” the legislator and magistrate said to the consort of the legislator and magistrate as the consort of the legislator and magistrate walked out of town, “I have put a moratorium on your leaving me.”

The consort of the legislator and magistrate replied, “I’m grandfathered in.”